Safety Is Where The Heart is
by bloodsoakedleather
Summary: AU. Erik can't help but be drawn to the beautiful, enigmatic and obviously unhappy Charles Xavier any more than Charles can help being drawn to him, but their mutual attraction could put both their lives at risk because Charles belongs to Sebastian Shaw and Shaw is a very, very dangerous man when crossed. SLASH
1. prologue

**A/N:** I feel I should apologise for the absence of both Charles _and_ Erik in this prologue, please don't be put off, this is definately a Cherik fic. I just felt that this was necessary to the story in that it establishes a certain atmosphere and sets the story up without actually being part of it as such. Hence I suppose why it's a prologue, not a first chapter.

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**SAFETY IS WHERE THE HEART IS**

**Prologue:**

Agent Hank McCoy mumbled a string of irritated curses under his breath and shoved his head under the pillow in an attempt to drown out the shrill ring and echoing hum of his cell phone as it vibrated against the surface of his nightstand. It didn't work. Throwing the pillow on the floor with another mumbled curse he groped blindly for the phone and hit '_answer_' instinctively.

"Hello." He snapped, angry at having his sleep disturbed at… He couldn't be bothered to open his eyes and read the actual time on his alarm clock because he was tired and it was too damn early, …stupid o clock.

"It's me." The caller's gruff voice said and suddenly Hank was not tired any more, he was fully awake and very very nervous.

"Logan?" He sat bolt upright, switched on his bedside lamp and reached for his glasses. "What's wrong?" He asked perching them awkwardly on his nose.

"I've been made. I don't know how, but Shaw found out I'm a fed."

Hank dragged his fingers through his hair and sighed heavily.

"Shit."

"Yeah, that's kinda what I thought too. " He paused for a moment. "We're gonna need to get someone else on the inside."

"Already done. Moira sent one of her guys in a while back… She didn't want to take any chances."

"Good."

"Just give me your location and I'll send a team in to get you out."

"Too late for that Hank. I'll be dead before they get here."

"What? Logan no… Don't say that."

"Sorry Hank. But they're right on my ass. I've got five minutes tops before they find me and I got nowhere else I can run to. I just wanted to say goodbye and…"

"Just tell me where you are Logan, we can still get you out." The agent's voice was tinged with panic.

"Hank please. You ain't kidding anyone but yourself. I knew what the risks were when I took this job. I'm done, I know it and I'm okay with it… kinda. I just wish I could…" He trailed off briefly his usually gruff voice becoming suddenly soft, Hank thought maybe he heard a small sob but he wasn't sure. "Do me a favour buddy."

"Sure, anything." He choked back a small sob of his own. He and Logan had been colleagues and friends for seven years now and it hurt to know next time he saw him would probably be on a slab. That Logan wasn't the first friend Hank had lost in the field and probably wouldn't be the last either didn't make it any easier.

"Tell Marie I love her would ya? And see that she gets my badge."

"I will, I promise."

"Thanks." There was a brief silence then Hank heard raised voices in the background. "Shit, gotta go Hank, I'm sorry. Don't forget about Marie…"

The last thing Hank heard before the phone went dead was a gunshot.


	2. Chapter 1

**A/N:** After the prologue I kinda felt I owed Logan a more detailed account of his demise, plus I thought this was a better introduction to Erik.

* * *

**SAFETY IS WHERE THE HEART IS**

**CHAPTER 1**

Crouched awkwardly behind an overturned desk in a warehouse back office somewhere near the docks, Logan hissed in pain, the sudden burning sensation in his shoulder making him drop his phone, breaking it into three pieces as it bounced off the concrete floor. The bullet had only grazed him. A warning shot. Warning him of what, he wasn't entirely sure, he already knew he was a dead man walking.

"Toss the gun and come out with your hands behind your head Logan." A heavily accented Russian voice called out.

Logan stared down at the weapon in his lap and sighed. What the Hell, he'd just emptied his last clip anyway, it was no good to him now, unless maybe he threw it at someone and what would that get him? Dead five minutes sooner, that's what it would get him. He didn't see an upside.

Grumbling under his breath he reached out and tossed the useless hunk of metal to one side. It clattered loudly as it hit the ground, bouncing a couple of times before landing more or less at the Russian's feet. The fed stood up then, hands clasped firmly behind his head as he'd been told and stepped out from behind the desk.

"You gonna shoot a defenceless man Azazel? Didn't take you for the type." He deadpanned. His ever present dry humour wholly inappropriate given his current situation yet it was comforting in it's familiarity, it made him feel like himself, like a real person, something he hadn't felt like in a very long time.

"Silence traitor." The Russian spat. Logan rolled his eyes.

Azazel kicked the gun towards his colleague who retrieved it immediately and tucked into his belt, then he waved his own gun at Logan.

"Outside. Mr Shaw is waiting."

Logan was shooed through the door by his former associates and marched at gunpoint back through the warehouse, eyes instinctively scanning his surroundings, alert to any possible dangers, wondering how far he'd get if he decided to make a break for it. Not that he thought he had any chance of getting out of this alive, he'd already made his peace with death but fuck it, there was no why reason why he couldn't spend the last few minutes of his life making theirs more difficult was there? It was an idle thought though, one he dismissed almost as soon as it came to him. Shaw's men were everywhere, and they were crack shot's, he wouldn't get more than a few yards before one of them picked him off, hardly a challenge really. Besides, as much as he hated the idea of going without a fight, he hated the idea of being just another random unidentified corpse even more. If he was going to die, he wasn't going to do it here, riddled with bullets and left to rot in some abandoned shit-hole where no one would even bother to look. No, if he was going to die he was going to do it on his knees, with his hands behind his head and a single bullet to the brain execution style, left in plain sight as a warning to others who might betray Sebastian fucking Shaw. At least that way Marie would know what happened to him.

Through the main door, out into the parking lot and Logan was on his knees thanks to an unnecessarily vicious kick from Azazel who remained at his side, blocking the last remaining possible escape route. He looked up, squinting slightly against the moonlight. Shaw stood barely an arms length away from him, flanked by two armed bodyguards. One he recognised as Janos, like Azazel a former colleague, and like Azazel a man who's friendship he'd carefully cultivated as part of his cover. The other he didn't know though he looked vaguely familiar. He wondered which one of these men, not Shaw, he wouldn't want to get his hands dirty but the other three, would be his executioner.

* * *

Erik Lehnsher fixed his gaze on the man kneeling before him and half frowned. They guy looked oddly calm even in the face of a pissed off Sebastian Shaw, a trio of gun barrels and impending death. It was more than a little unnerving and he wasn't sure why. It wasn't like Agent James Howlett Logan was the first fed he'd ever stared down. Logan wasn't the first guy he'd ever aimed his gun at either and he wouldn't be the first guy he'd ever killed. No, Erik had killed before, more times than he could count… or wanted to count… whatever. Yet for some reason, right now, his gut was twisting itself into knots. It was the guys eyes he decided giving him another hard look. Something about the guys eyes sat wrong with him. Shouldn't there be fear in the eyes of a man who knew he was about to die, shouldn't there be regret?

He was shaken from his thoughts by the sound of Shaw's voice, echoing in the night air.

"Logan, Logan, Logan." Shaw said, shaking his head. "I'm very disappointed in you."

"I'm devastated." Logan huffed sarcastically. Shaw ignored him.

"No. Disappointed doesn't even begin to describe it. You broke my heart Logan. I trusted you, took you into my home, treated you like family. And the whole time you were a federal agent. You were spying on me. How could you do that to me Logan?"

It was a rhetorical question.

"Ya know it wasn't as hard as ya might think." The fed sneered, earning himself another kick from Azazel, to the ribs this time. Erik heard a sickening crunch and Logan snarled through his teeth, obviously fighting the urge to cry out in pain. "That all ya got?" He asked defiantly. Azazel kicked him again and Erik wondered how in the Hell the guy managed to keep his hands were they were and not crumple to the ground. "Christ! Enough with the love taps already." He spat. "Thought ya were supposed to be hurting me."

Shaw shot the Russian a look Erik couldn't quite read from where he stood, one that effectively halted any further kicks, then he knelt in front of the fed.

"I can't deny the idea of hurting you holds a great deal of appeal to me right now. But I'm a busy man, as you well know. I don't currently have the time to indulge in such pleasures and waiting until I _do_ have time is unfortunately not an option. You're a threat Logan, one that needs eliminating as quickly as possible. Consider yourself lucky. Your death will be quick and relatively painless."

He turned now to Erik, his gaze utterly devoid of emotion.

"Tell me Erik." He said coolly. "How would you like a permanent position within my organisation?"

"Very much Sir. It would be a great honour."Shaw nodded.

"Yes. Yes, it would." He paused momentarily and turned his gaze back to Logan, where it remained for sometime before returning to Erik. "Kill him." He ordered.

Erik swallowed thickly and took aim. He really didn't want to see the man's face, didn't want to see whatever emotion or lack thereof was in his eyes but he was drawn, in spite of himself, he couldn't look away, though he desperately wished he could because what he saw shocked him to his core. There was no fear in Agent Logan's eyes, no regret, no sadness, only acceptance and… something else. Something that looked like… forgiveness.

He was acutely aware that he was being watched, that he was being tested and judged and he fought to control the faint tremor in his hand. He knew what was expected of him, knew what he had to do and what the consequences would be if he failed, but for a brief moment he wasn't sure he could bring himself to do it.

Then Logan looked at him and gave an almost imperceptible nod, as if he was giving his permission, and Erik shoved his conscience aside and pulled the trigger. Logan was dead before he hit the ground.

Erik didn't have time to contemplate what he'd just done or how he felt about it before he felt Shaw's presence at his side.

"Azazel, Janos, be sure to leave Agent Logan's body somewhere quite public." He ordered his men. "It wouldn't do for my warning to go unnoticed." He clapped a firm hand on Erik's shoulder then and grinned. "Congratulations Erik. You just became the newest member of my personal security team."

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**Reviews appreciated**


	3. Chapter 2

**A/N:** Apologies in advance for any errors but I'm British and I know next to nothing about American law enforcement agencies so I used what I remembered from all the action films I've seen and made the rest up. Please don't hold it against me.

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**SAFETY IS WHERE THE HEART IS**

**CHAPTER 2**

It felt strange to Erik to be driven to Shaw's mansion in the back of a chauffeur driven limo while the man himself chattered inanely about a range of topics including the weather, music, skipping lunch and his favourite brand of scotch as if he hadn't just ordered a man's murder. Following Shaw's lead, Erik responded as if he hadn't just pulled the trigger.

Truthfully, Erik hadn't expected to suddenly become privy to all of Shaw's secrets and business dealings. In light of Logan turning out to be a fed, it was entirely understandable that Shaw would remain guarded around him, in spite of the fact that he had been the one to dispose of Logan for him. A man like Shaw couldn't afford to give his trust too easily. Still, Erik had expected to see some small trace of the man Sebastian Shaw really was, some underlying evil not quite buried deep enough. This apparent normalcy was actually kind of creepy.

When they arrived outside the mansion, the car came to a stop, it's engine still purring gently as the chauffeur got out and walked around to open the door for Shaw and himself.

"Thank you Darwin. Shaw said as he exited the vehicle. "Please wait here, I shall be needing you for a little while longer."

"Yes Sir." Darwin nodded, waiting until Erik was also out of the car then closing the door.

"Erik, this is Darwin. Darwin, Erik." He waved his hand nonchalantly, nothing more than a cursory introduction, then ordered Erik to follow him inside.

"Welcome to my humble abode." Shaw said with a grin, arms outstretched arms drawing deliberate attention to the surroundings.

"Fuck." Erik muttered under his breath. "This place is huge." His eyes darted all around trying to take in everything at once. The marble floor, cream coloured walls, heavy oak doors with gilded fixtures and fittings, gold and crystal chandeliers, artwork on every wall and every surface. It was too much, way too much. Erik thought he could probably stand in this room a hundred times and still find something he hadn't noticed the first ninety-nine. And this was just the entrance hall.

Shaw chuckled.

"You think? Sometimes I find it a little cramped."

"Cramped? Jesus. How the fuck do you find your way around without getting lost? I can see myself getting lost a lot."

Shaw gave another chuckle.

"You'll soon get used to it. Come on, follow me." Erik did as he was told and Shaw led him through into what would have appeared to be a large games room had it not been for the array of video monitors that decorated the rear wall, each displaying images of what Erik presumed to be different areas of the property. Two men looked up from their pool game, one tall and broad with short blond hair, obviously another member of the security team. The other shorter, slightly built with wavy red hair and freckles, Erik couldn't quite see how he fitted in. "This is Sean. He's my tech guy." Shaw said as if reading his thoughts. "And this is Alex." The blond nodded."Boys, this is Erik. Logan's replacement."

"Pleased to meet you Erik." Sean said and both men walked over to shake his hand.

"Likewise."

"I'm sorry Erik." Shaw turned to him. "I still have urgent business to attend to so I'm afraid I won't be able to give you the grand tour just yet but Sean and Alex can show you everything you need to know for now and I should hopefully be home later tomorrow."

"Don't worry boss, we've got it all covered." Alex grinned.

"Of course you do." He turned to leave, hesitating briefly at the door before asking."Where is Charles hiding himself away this evening?"

Erik saw a distinctly uncomfortable look pass between Sean and Alex at the mention of Charles' name and he couldn't help but wonder who Charles actually was, how he fitted in here and what it was about him that caused such a reaction in the two men. Sean elbowed Alex in the ribs and Alex glared at him.

"He went to bed early. Said he had a headache."

Shaw's shoulders tensed noticabley and Erik was sure he heard a low, angry grumble coming from the other man but when he spoke his voice was strangely calm, completely at odds with Erik's observations.

"That's a shame. I was hoping to see him before I left. Never mind, I'll see him tomorrow instead. I really should get going. Boy's make Erik feel at home will you?"

"Will do boss."The three of them stood still, listening to Shaw's footsteps growing quieter as they got further away and when at last they went completely silent, Sean and Alex both let out an audible sigh of relief.

"Damn." Sean muttered, flopping down on a nearby couch. "I thought he was gonna go ape-shit for a minute then."

"Me too." Alex joined him on the couch. "I guess offing Logan chilled him out some.""Yeah. I guess."

Erik listened to the exchange with interest, his curiosity getting stronger by the second.

"So, uh… Who is Charles?" He asked.

The two men gave each other another look, this one infuriated rather than uncomfortable. It was Alex who answered.

"Charles Xavier. He's Shaw's fuck toy… And a royal pain in our collective fucking asses."

* * *

Approximately two hours later, after Sean had explained the surveillance system, detailed each area covered by one of the cameras and indicated on a map of the property where each of those areas were located, and after he'd tagged along with Alex on the next scheduled perimeter check before heading back to the games room for a game of poker, Erik excused himself to use the bathroom.

Following Alex's directions to one of the mansions many bathrooms, he sat now on a closed toilet lid with one foot balanced on his knee, fiddling with the heel of his shoe. The heel came free after just a few seconds and Erik dug inside with a fingernail to retrieve a cell phone sim card which he quickly switched for the one already in his phone and dialled the only number saved on it.

"Hello." A female voice answered, slightly slurred from sleep.

"Moira, it's Erik. In hushed tones. "I'm inside. You're talking to the newest member of Sebastian Shaw's security team."

"That's fantastic." She said excitedly.

"That's a matter opinion." He sighed heavily and lowered his voice a little further. "I had to kill a man tonight to do it. A good man, one of us."

"Jim Logan, yes, we know. He managed to get a message out to his handler before he…"

"Fuck." He muttered, pressing his forehead into the palm of his hand and taking a deep breath.

"It's the job." She told him, sensing that he was troubled by it. "You do whatever it takes to get close to the target… _Whatever it takes_ Erik." She emphasized the last part, knowing that Erik had been struggling lately with the darker areas of undercover work. "You know that. Logan Knew that."

"Spare me the spiel Moira. I've heard it all before." He was silent for a moment. She could hear him breathing. At last he asked. "Did he have a family?"

"Erik! She warned. It wouldn't help to know.

"Did he have a family? He asked again, more forcefully this time. He needed to know, he didn't know why, he just did and he'd be damned if he was going to let Moira wriggle out of giving him an answer.

Moira sighed.

"A wife, Marie." She answered reluctantly.

"Fuck fuck fuck."

"You okay?"

"What do you fucking think?" He spat then bit his lip, realising he's spoken out a little louder than he'd intended. "I'm so fucking far from okay." Another heavy silence followed while he tried to calm his jumbles thoughts. "I'm tired of all this shit. I don't know if I can keep doing this."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean I'm scared. I'm scared of what I'm becoming. I don't feel like I'm one of the good guys anymore. I'm losing more and more of myself every day. I've gotta get out while I still can. While there's still some small part of me left."

"No no no. Don't do this to me Erik. You can't bail on me. You're all we've got."

Erik thought she sounded slightly panicked. The usually cool and unflappable Moira McTaggart's feathers had been ruffled. It made him smile, sort of.

"Relax. I'm not bailing." The thought had occurred to him, he couldn't deny it, at least not to himself but it was just an idle thought. If he bailed now it would mean that he'd... that Logan had died for nothing and he couldn't live with that on his conscience. "I'll see this job through to the end." He said. "But that's it. When it's done, I'm out."

"You know I'm gonna try and change your mind right?"

"Of course. You know it won't work, right?"

"Of course."

Erik gave a tense chuckle Moira snorted indignantly.

"So, what have we got on Shaw's mystery companion?" He asked, focussing back on the job and not the self doubt that plagued him.

"Jack shit of any use. A name, a possible date of birth and a couple of crappy cell phone photos too blurry to make out any features. We've got sketchy records of three different Charles Xaviers and all of them supposedly died in their teens. And thanks to two extremely inconvenient electrical fires and a gas mains explosion in the records offices that's all we're ever going to get. Logan tried to get him to talk but he said the guy was pretty guarded. Goes with the territory I guess. Why? Do you think he might be important?"

"Maybe. Probably not. I don't know. I haven't even met him yet but I got a real weird vibe off a couple of Shaw's guys earlier when his name was mentioned. I figure he's at least got to be worth looking into. Look, I don't know if I'm gonna be able to check in as often from now on but I'll get back to you as soon as I can okay? Now, I've got to go before I'm missed. There's only so long a guy can spend in a toilet before people start asking awkward questions."

"You're disgusting. Okay, go. Just be careful okay?"

"I'm always careful."

"Good. We can't afford to lose you like we lost…"

She trailed off. Erik finished her sentence for her.

"Like we lost Logan. Yeah, I know. And thanks for the reminder."

He ended the call a little more abruptly than was necessary, muttering under his breath and glaring at the phone as if Moira could see him through it. Then he switched sims back, re-heeled his shoe, flushed the toilet, lifted the lid and the seat and headed back to the games room were Sean and Alex were waiting.

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**Reviews appreciated**


	4. Chapter 3

**SAFETY IS WHERE THE HEART IS**

**CHAPTER 3**

Charles Xavier rolled over in bed with a soft, muffled grunt, smiling contentedly to himself as he draped a lazy arm over the empty half of the bed. It was a rare treat to wake up like this, alone and fully sated from a genuinely good nights sleep. _No Sebastian_. He'd managed to avoid the older man last night by feigning a migraine in front of some of the men and going to bed early long before he'd returned home. He'd have been expecting sex of course, he always expected sex, and he'd have been quietly furious when he'd realised he wasn't going to get it. Charles had no doubt that he would pay dearly for his lie later, and Sebastian _would_ know it was a lie, he was quite sure of that, but right now he couldn't bring himself to care. To him it was a price well worth paying just to be able to wake up and not have to smell the bastard on the sheets for once.

He sighed happily and buried his face in the unused pillow, breathing deeply, enjoying the scent of laundry detergent that still clung just faintly. He didn't want to get up just yet, he wanted to stay in bed a little longer and make the most of this tiny freedom if it could even be called that, but his bladder had other plans and eventually it forced him to rise.

Grumbling softly under his breath he padded towards the en suite and relieved himself. After a moments debate about whether or not to go back to bed he decided that since he was up now, he might as well stay up and took a shower. Twenty minutes later he emerged in a cloud of steam, skin pink from the heat of the water and smelling of sandalwood and herbs rather than the chocolaty caramel scented goo that Sebastian preferred.

With one towel around his waist and another draped over his head he strode back in to the bedroom and opened the wardrobe to pick out his clothes for the day, sighing in frustration at the relative sparsity of things he actually liked when compared to the sizable selection of designer jeans, tight tees and fitted shirts that Sebastian liked him to wear because he said they showed off his slender but well toned body. After selecting a pair of smart but informal black trousers and a loose cashmere sweater in cream with a shallow v neck which he laid it out on the bed, he finished drying himself off and got dressed. He pondered briefly what to do with his hair then opted to let it dry naturally rather than styling it, knowing how much Sebastian disliked the shaggy look, and went downstairs.

* * *

At some time in the early hours of the morning, Azazel and Janos had returned from wherever it was they had taken Logan's body and gone to bed. Erik had stayed up with Sean and Alex on the night watch, not really sure at this point what he was expected to do and figuring that although yesterday had been a long day and he was exhausted, it would probably be wise for him to be immediately available when Shaw came back, whatever time that might be, just in case. He'd stayed up when, at eight a.m Sean had announced with glee that his shift was over and he was going to bed and Azazel and Janos had resurfaced to start their regular day shift.

Half an hour later they sat in the kitchen, drinking coffee and eating breakfast when Erik heard shuffling footsteps outside the door. The other three men glanced at one another with varying degrees of annoyance and frustration on their faces that made Erik more than a little curious as to the cause.

"My friend." Alex said, noting the look on his face and slapping him lightly on the shoulder with a pitying smirk. "You are about to meet one Charles Xavier. And on that note, my coffee and I bid you farewell. I'm going to bed."

The door swung open and as one slender figure stepped into the kitchen, Alex's lankier frame stepped out.

"Charles." He nodded with reluctant politeness as they passed. Charles barely grunted, letting the door swing shut behind him and marching over towards the counter. Erik maintained a discrete distance, observing the young man from across the room. He was beautiful in the way that only men can be, and slightly aloof, quietly assertive but not arrogant and nothing at all like Erik had imagined the lover of a man like Sebastian Shaw to be.

"Emma will be waiting for you in the dining room." Azazel commented flatly, not looking up from his plate of eggs.

Emma, Erik recognised the name from the numerous briefings before his cover had begun, was Shaw's younger sister.

"No doubt. Now explain to me again exactly why I should care." Charles answered equally as flatly as he began to rummage through the cabinets. It was quite obvious from the body language and the ease with which they fired responses at one another that this was a conversation Charles and Azazel had with some regularity.

Interesting, Erik noted. Clearly there's was some animosity towards Emma on Charles' part. He couldn't help but wonder why that was.

"You know Mr Shaw likes the two of you to dine together when he's away."

"Ah yes. The happy families façade." He retrieved a box of pop tarts from the cabinet and took out one sachet, tearing open the foil with his teeth and dropping the pastries into the toaster. "Sorry, but I don't feel like playing that game today."

The Russian pushed his plate away and stood up, crossing the kitchen floor to stand beside Charles and grabbing his wrist.

"Do I have to take you there myself or will you go nicely?"

Charles stared coolly at the other man for a moment.

"I think you'll have to take me there yourself." He replied, lifting his captive wrist but not trying to free himself. "Of course, I'll struggle quite violently so you'll have to use some force. And I shall be sure to tell Sebastian how unnecessarily rough you were when he asks where the bruises came from.

The two men glared daggers at one another for several long seconds. Janos it appeared was taking great pains to ignore the incident, Erik however, watched with mounting interest. It was Azazel who cracked first, releasing his grip on the younger man's wrist, practically throwing it back at him with an angry snort.

"Brat." He hissed, stalking back to his seat.

"Bully." Charles hissed back.

Behind Charles the toaster popped and up sprang the pop tarts. Charles snatched at them with a sharp intake of breath and dropped them onto a plate, blowing on his burned fingertips and mumbling a string of inaudible curses under his breath. Azazel snickered quietly to himself.

While he waited for the pastries to cool enough so as to be edible he turned round and leant back against the counter, surveying the room, a strange look crossing his face as he appeared to notice for the first time that something was different this morning, something was out of place. He glanced around the room once more then folded his arms across his chest and frowned before asking…

"Where is Logan?"

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**Reviews appreciated**


	5. Chapter 4

**A/N:** This story can also be found at _yourfanfiction . com_ (no spaces, same authorname - **bloodsoakedleather**) so in the event that it gets delted from here, you know where to go to continue reading. Don't wait til then though, it's a new site, go check it out now, help the archive to grow. Please.

* * *

"Well." He said. The arms folded across his chest seemed to tighten. "I'm waiting for an answer. Where is Logan?" He looked round the kitchen at the assembled men, frowning hard when his gaze fell upon Erik in the corner. "And who the bloody Hell are you?"

"I… Uhm…" Erik mumbled awkwardly, glancing over at Azazel and Janos for guidance. He had no idea how much Charles knew, how much Shaw allowed him to know. He didn't want to fuck up this early by letting Charles in on something that was supposed to be a secret.

"Logan is gone." Azazel answered eventually.

"Gone? That's it, just gone?" Charles asked, turning his frown towards Azazel.

"Gone." The Russian confirmed.

Charles glared hard and then sighed.

"You mean he's dead, don't you?" Azazel said nothing. "Of course he's dead. He didn't just walk away did he? He couldn't if he wanted to. No one ever leaves Sebastian Shaw of their own free will and lives." He mumbled under his breath. Erik read his lips, and his expression. Something, some strange emotion flickered in the young man's blue eyes that Erik could only partially identify. It wasn't sorrow, or grief, Charles wasn't going to mourn Logan's passing that was clear but there was a sort of muted sadness that Erik wouldn't have expected from the lover of a man like Sebastian Shaw. But then so far pretty much everything about Charles Xavier was unexpected. "I suppose that makes you his replacement." He said, turning back to Erik and pulling him abruptly out of his thoughts.

Erik quickly wiped his hand on his pants leg and held it out.

"Erik… Lehnsherr." He introduced himself. Charles did not take the proffered hand, merely looked at it with what could only be described as disdain before once again turning his glare upon Azazel.

"Am I allowed to know why or am I supposed to wait for Sebastian to supply me with some ridiculous fairy story?"

"He was a fed." Azazel answered flatly.

"A fed?" Again something flickered in Charles' eyes but it was gone as quickly as it appeared giving Erik no time to even try and identify it. "I need some air." The younger man muttered, pushing past Erik to the patio doors behind him and breaking into a run when they swung open for him.

Erik watched him run, not entirely sure what had just happened.

"Someone should go after him. The Boss won't like it if he makes trouble again." Azazel said without looking up, making it clear that _he_ was not going to be that someone. Erik glanced at Janos who just raised an eyebrow and leant back in his chair.

He sighed.

"I guess that means me then."

* * *

_Shit_, Erik thought as he roamed the unfamiliar grounds, searching for the errant Charles. He should have paid more attention when Alex gave him the tour last night. Not that that would have helped him much now since he had the distinct feeling that Charles knew all of the estate's secret hiding places, but at least he'd have had a better idea of where _he_ actually was.

As it turned out though, Charles was not actually hiding. He'd merely found a peaceful area of the garden that hardly anyone ever visited, far away from the house where he could be alone. Erik eventually found him sitting at the edge of an ornamental fish pond with his knees tucked up under his chin and his fingertips tickling the surface of the water.

"I suppose you've come to drag me back inside." He said without looking up as Erik's shadow fell across his line of sight.

"No. I just wanted to see if you were okay."

Charles snorted derisively.

"Oh please. No one here gives a rat's backside if I'm okay… Not even me." Erik frowned at the statement. "_They_ sent you after me didn't they? To make sure I didn't try to escape. Don't worry, I stopped trying to do that a long time ago when I realised it was a complete waste of time and energy."

Erik's frown deepened. So many things bothered him about what Charles had just said that he really wasn't quite sure where to begin trying to analyse them.

"Actually, I was just told the boss wouldn't like it if you made trouble again."

The younger man smirked.

"Of course he wouldn't. That's why I do it."

"Does that mean you _are_ going to make trouble?"

Charles shrugged.

"Maybe. I haven't decided yet."

That was reassuring. Well, he wasn't going to let Charles out of his sight now until Shaw got back or someone else took over babysitting duty. He wondered idly for a moment if this was why Alex had labelled Charles as a pain in everyone's ass. He sighed loudly.

"Uhm… Do you mind if I sit?" He gestured to a spot on the ground beside Charles.

"If I say yes, I do mind, you're going to sit anyway aren't you?"

"I guess so, yeah."

"Well then stop hovering and do it."

Erik did as he was told, crossing his legs in front of himself and resting his hands lazily upon his knees while he tried to figure out the other man.

"So… this is about Logan?" Charles didn't answer and didn't look up. "You're upset. He was a friend of yours?" Terriffic, as if he didn't already feel guilty enough. The brunette suddenly laughed out loud, taking Erik quite by surprise.

"Good heaven's no. I don't have friends, Sebastian would never allow it"

Erik's frown returned, harder than before, deep furrows creasing his forehead and the corners of his eyes.

"But you liked him?"

"Of course I didn't." He said flatly, then he sighed. "But I didn't despise him either. He wasn't a _complete _arsehole like the others." Erik nodded slowly as if he understood, though in truth he really didn't at all. Charles was silent for a while, Erik watched his features shift as if he was thinking hard about something then… "You killed him, didn't you? Logan… you're the one."

Erik was more than slightly taken aback by the suddenness and bluntness of the question and flushed deeply.

"I… Er… I…" He stammered uncomfortably, having no idea how to respond.

"You don't have to answer, I know you did. Sebastian wouldn't have brought you here otherwise, he _does_ like to surround himself with people who are willing to kill for him." Erik was having a goldfish moment, his mouth opening and closing wordlessly like the fish that were gently nibbling at Charles' fingers. "Don't worry, I'm hardly without sin myself. I've never killed a person but still, I'm in no position to judge anyone. I won't hold it against you."

Now that was truly unexpected. Erik had quite thought Charles might fly into a rage, tell him he was despicable, a murderer, no better than an animal, just like the rest of them etc. If not that then he would have at least expected to see the loathing in Charles eyes but all he saw was a quiet resignation, tinged with disappointment. It was slightly unnerving and made his stomach wrench, he'd almost rather have seen the rage.

"It was quick." He said softly, not sure exactly what he was hoping to achieve with his words but saying them anyway. "He wouldn't have felt anything."

"Good. Nobody should have to die in horrible pain." He glanced in the direction of the mansion and added in a whisper so quiet that Erik nearly didn't hear it. "Almost nobody."

Erik followed the younger man's gaze, there and back, seeing now what he hadn't fully seen before. Charles was not the sulky, spoiled brat he pretended to be. He was deeply unhappy here, it was so obvious now that he bothered to look and that troubled Erik greatly. Something was keeping Charles here against his will, something big, something important enough to Charles to make him surrender himself to a life he clearly didn't want to be part of. Erik needed to find out what that something was because he was convinced that it was the key to taking down Sebastian Shaw... and saving Charles Xavier.

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**Reviews appreciated**


	6. Chapter 5

**A/N:** As I've said before, this story can also be fund at _yourfanfiction . com_ (no spaces, same author name - **bloodsoakedleather**) so in the event that I get deleted from here you can still continue reading.

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The television was on but no one was really watching. The volume had been turned down low, creating a pleasant, warm buzz in the room that was sort of relaxing. It was growing late but it was still more than a couple of hours away from the shift change and Azazel and Janos were engrossed in what seemed to be a relatively high stakes poker game with another of Shaw's men who'd been introduced simply as Jason, while Charles was curled up in an oversized leather armchair with his legs tucked up under him reading Tess of The D'Urbervilles. For his part Erik was just fighting to keep his eyes open. He hadn't slept since the docks and on reflection his decision to stay awake until Shaw's return seemed kind of stupid, but it was too late to change it now and Shaw would be back soon, he might as well wait it out. At least he knew where his room, Logan's old room, was now.

To keep his mind occupied and therefore not fall asleep, Erik busied himself with studying each of the rooms occupants, trying to learn what made them tick. At least that's what he told himself he was doing but the truth was, he couldn't seem to keep his attention on anyone else for longer than a few second because his gaze was being repeatedly drawn to Charles who Erik was beginning to realise was really quite fascinating and difficult _not_ to look at.

Everything about the man contradicted all the pre conceived notions Erik had ever had about what a _gangster's moll_, for want of a better description, should be. He should be vacuous and shallow, conceited and superior, flirty and seductive, spoilt and brattish, and although he was quite sure that was how most everyone else in the mansion saw the younger man, Erik didn't see that at all. He saw the façade, of course he did, yes, but he also saw what was hidden behind it. Charles was intelligent and thoughtful, shy and withdrawn, lonely and lost and absolutely, breathtakingly beautiful.

He gave himself a mental shake and tried to dispel that last thought from his mind but it was too late, wherever it had come from and no matter how unwelcome it was, it was here now… probably to stay. Shit! He took another look at the young brunette and sighed inwardly. Beautiful didn't even begin to describe him and Erik, who had never really been good with words, couldn't think of a better way to describe him although, desirable was lurking somewhere in the back of his mind.

_No no no! _A voice in his head that sounded suspiciously like Moira screamed. _Erik Lehnsherr, don't you fucking dare. You have a job to do, don't let yourself get distracted, this is too important. _Reluctantly he tore his eyes away from Charles and looked out of the window instead. _Yeah yeah, I know, I'm not stupid, I know what's at stake._

Thankfully he didn't have to distract himself for long. Just a few minutes later he heard the sound of high heeled shoes clip clopping towards the door and he turned round to see Emma Frost shimmying into the room.

She was exactly like the photos he'd seen of her, except perhaps a little less cheap. Her outfit, what little of it there was, was too skimpy and too see-through to really even be classed as lingerie and the shoes which could only be described as 'stripper shoes' were ridiculously high, yet somehow she managed to float effortlessly in them rather than teeter which, along with the high end jewellery, did give her some small degree of class. Other than that she looked like a very expensive hooker. He noticed with some amusement that Janos, Azazel and Jason had forgotten their card game the second she walked in and their tongues were all but dragging on the ground. He supposed he could understand, she was an extremely attractive woman in her own trashy sort of way and if he were that way inclined he might well have found himself drooling too but… well, he wasn't.

Charles looked up briefly from his book then went back to reading.

"I'm surprised to see you back so early." He said flatly. "You can't have been short of business in that outfit."Erik had to suppress a grin. Emma glared.

"Good evening to you too Charles." Her voice dripped sarcasm. "I missed you at breakfast."

"No you didn't, you hate me."

"Well duh. But at least I have the good grace to _try_ and be civil… for Sebastian's sake." She dropped down into the couch and stretched her long legs out in front of her, crossing her ankles delicately and tapping her toes together.

"Please Emma. We both know the only reason you're civil to me is to try and show me up. You might as well save yourself the trouble because I can assure you that civility is the last thing Sebastian is worried about when he has his cock shoved up my arse."

Erik nearly choked on thin air. Thankfully no one seemed to notice.

"Really Charles?" The blonde woman spat, wrinkling her nose in a show of disgust. "Must you be so… coarse?"

"I'm sorry." Charles said, resting his book on his knee for a moment and shooting her a look of equal contempt. "I didn't mean to offend your delicate sensibilities." Now it was his voice that dripped sarcasm. "Would you prefer I referred to what Sebastian does to me in the bedroom as making love?"

It didn't go unnoticed by Erik that Charles had said _what Sebastian does to me _and not _what we do_. Mentally he added it to his list of possible indicators that Charles was under duress of some kind and tried not to think about how uneasy the idea made him feel.

"What I'd prefer is for you not to be involved with my brother at all."

Charles' jaw clenched briefly.

"Well, that makes two of us." He muttered under his breath, but not so quietly that Erik didn't catch it, before, snatching up his book and going back to his reading."

Oh yes, Charles was definitely under duress.

After that the atmosphere in the room grew heavy and uncomfortable. Emma picked up the remote control and turned the television up loud, Charles carried on reading, Janos, Azazel and Jason returned to their card game and Erik went back to trying not to stare at Charles. No one spoke again for some time.

Forty-five minutes later, when Shaw arrived home, the tension in the air was still palpable but he breezed into the room without even a hint of acknowledgement, as if it was always that way. Erik suspected it probably was.

Emma leapt to her feet and ran over to her brother, throwing her arms around his neck in an exaggerated show of affection and kissed his cheek.

"Sebastian, you're back. Did your meeting go well?"

"As a matter of fact it did." Shaw answered, gifting his sister with a brief but genuine smile and a returned kiss before brushing her aside to her obvious irritation, and making his way over to Charles.

"Charles, darling, how are you feeling today? I heard you had one of your headaches last night."

"Something like that." The younger man mumbled.

"But it's better tonight yes?"

"Clearly."

Shaw seated himself on the arm of Charles' chair and slipped his arm around his shoulder. Charles flinched, almost imperceptibly but otherwise didn't react.

"Good, I always feel awful when you're… ill." He tilted his head slightly and leaned forward, intent on capturing Charles' lips with his own but at the last second Charles turned his head just a fraction, avoiding the kiss. His lover scowled darkly, obviously under the impression that the move was deliberate. Erik was inclined to agree. Shaw schooled his features into something resembling a smile and sighed loudly, following the sigh with a wide yawn. "Well, I don't know about everyone else, but I've had a very long and taxing day and I'm exhausted so I'm going to bed. Charles, are you coming?"

"No, you go ahead , get some rest. I'll be up later. I'd really like to finish another couple of chapters first." Charles answered, waving his book at his lover.

If possible, the atmosphere in the room suddenly became even thicker. Emma watched with an amused smirk while the three men playing cards exchanged a look similar to the one that had passed between Alex and Sean last night.

"Of course." Shaw smiled sweetly and pressed a kiss to the top of Charles' head. "But don't forget tomorrow is Sunday and you know what that means."

And it was then that Charles did something else that surprised Erik, given what he had seen of the young man so far… He submitted.

Charles' whole demeanour changed in barely a blink of an eye. He flushed deeply, his shoulders slumped, he lowered his head and dropped his book without even marking the page.

"Yes." He whispered shakily. "I know." He looked up again and caught Shaw's gaze immediately. "Please Sebastian I…"

Azazel, Janos and Jason let out a collective breath and returned to their game.

Shaw nodded, rose to his feet and held out a hand.

"Come to bed Charles." The tone was soft but it was still unmistakably an order, not a request.

"Yes Sebastian." Charles voice was still just a whisper as he placed his hand obediently and without hesitation in the other man's and allowed himself to be dragged to his feet. He kept his head low as he was pulled towards the door, avoiding the gaze of almost everyone in the room, except Erik. It was just a passing glance and then Charles was gone. If Erik had blinked he would have missed the look, but he didn't blink and in that split second Erik saw a whole bunch of things in Charles's expressive blue eyes.

Shame.

Guilt.

Regret.

Self loathing.

Fear.

A silent plea.

_Help me Erik. Please._

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**Reviews appreciated**


	7. Chapter 6

**A/N: ** As previously stated, in the event that this fic is deleted from here, it can also be found over at _yourfanfiction . com_ (no spaces, same author name - **bloodsoakedleather**) so you can continue to read it there if you want to.

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_Help me Erik. Please._

Charles hadn't spoken the words, hadn't spoken any words at all in fact as Shaw had dragged him away, but his eyes had said it all. Those beautiful blue eyes told him everything. Charles was terrified of Sebastian Shaw and Erik could only _imagine_ why. Not that there weren't a billion and one reasons for a person, any person, to be scared of Shaw but whatever Charles was afraid of, it was different, it was personal. Erik could just sense it, like in that split second they'd exchanged more than a look, like Charles had given him a glimpse of his soul, just a glimpse, enough to know that something was very wrong, but not enough to see what that something was.

He was wired, his brain refused to shut off and he lay on his bed on top of the covers staring blankly up at the ceiling, fists clenching and unclenching at his sides, unable to sleep despite being awake for what seemed like weeks, all because of that look. That fucking look that made Erik feel as if someone had torn a huge fucking hole in his stomach, reached inside, grabbed his guts and twisted and squeezed until they were nothing but pulp then yanked them so far up into his throat that he thought he might actually vomit them up, before dropping them again.

He didn't even want to consider what Shaw might actually be doing to Charles right now, or what he might have done to him in the past to put that look in his eyes.

He had to get Charles out of this mansion and as far away from Shaw as possible, and he had to do it soon. But as much as he wanted to, he couldn't just march on up to their bedroom, drag Charles out of bed and run away with him into the night. No, he still had his job to do, he still had to find a way to take down Sebastian Shaw and his entire operation, if he didn't, Charles would never really be free, no matter how far they ran, and he knew it. He needed a plan. He needed hard evidence. He needed... he needed… Fuck! He needed to stop thinking about Charles. Thinking about Charles made it hard to think about _anything_ else and he needed to be able to think, he needed his head clear but dammit, right now Charles Xavier was all he _could _think about.

Shit!

With a low groan and several mumbled curses, he swung his legs over the edge of the bed and sat up. He rubbed his hands roughly across his face, ran his fingers through his hair and sighed heavilly. He should probably call Moira. He had nothing for her yet, not anything useful at any rate. They couldn't exactly go to court armed with his gut feeling and nothing else, but she'd be waiting for him to check in and he wasn't sure when he'd next get the chance, besides, maybe her no nonsense attitude would help him get his mind off of Charles.

Once again he scrubbed his hand across his face and reached for his shoes.

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His feet barely touched the floor as Sebastian dragged him along the corridor. Charles could tell by the length and weight of the other man's stride that he was furious. He'd known he would be, just as he'd known that Sebastian would make him sorry but the fact that he was prepared for it, that he accepted Sebastian's anger, didn't mean he was any less scared.

"I'm sorry Sebastian, I'm sorry." He sobbed. The other man said nothing, just tightened his grip around Charles' wrist, squeezing hard, almost cutting off the circulation and making Charles wince and instinctively try to pull away. "Please Sebastian, you're hurting me."

Sebastian turned then and glared at him, his eyes dark with rage, his mouth curved into a cruel sneer.

"This?" He hissed, yanking Charles' wrist and tightening his grip further still. Charles bit his lip to keep from crying out. "This is nothing. It's going to get much worse."

The grip Sebastian had on Charles' wrist didn't ease even as he opened the bedroom door and shoved him inside.

"Sebastian…" Charles whispered another plea, but Sebastian wouldn't hear it and Charles found both his voice and his breath stolen when he was slammed roughly against the wall, his lips captured in a harsh, possessive kiss. The other man's lips attacked his, his tongue forcing his open and probing obscenely at the insides of his mouth. Charles whimpered softly, more from surprise than pleasure. Sebastian deepened the kiss and pushed Charles harder against the wall, his taller, broader frame keeping the smaller man pinned and helpless.

"I wanted you last night Charles." He murmured, tearing himself away from the kiss and nipping sharply with his teeth at Charles' jaw and throat. "You know how I get before I have to go away, even if it's just for one night."

Charles knew only too well how Sebastian got. He got romantic and playful, he teased and tormented and took his time, drawing out every single touch until Charles was moaning and writhing and begging with tears in his eyes, not because he wanted, not because he was aroused and needy but because he was sick and ashamed and if it didn't end soon, if he had to keep pretending for even one more second he was afraid he might actually die.

"Yes, I know." He said quietly. "But I was having one of my migraines and…"

"Migraine huh." Sebastian interrupted, staring intently at Charles.

Charles nodded.

"I could hardly lift my head it hurt so much." He lied, knowing full well that Sebastian could see right through him, but he'd started the lie, he couldn't backtrack now, he couldn't admit that he lied, it would only make the man even angrier and he couldn't risk that… he just couldn't.

Sebastian stared at him for a few moments longer then he bellowed furiously..

"DON'T GIVE ME THAT FUCKING BULLSHIT!"

Without warning he swung his fist, striking Charles hard across the cheek with the back of his hand, his knuckles opening up a small cut on his cheekbone. At the same time, Charles' head snapped back, hitting the wall with a thud. He yelped in pain, blinking back tears and flinching when he saw Sebastian's fist coming at him again. He turned his head but not quick enough, this time the blow landed on his jaw causing his teeth to clash together and catch his bottom lip, tearing it open.

Cowering in fear, unable to escape with Sebastian in front of him and the wall behind him, Charles couldn't keep the tears from rolling down his face.

"I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry." He whispered over and over.

"Sorry for what?" Sebastian snarled. "For lying to me?"

No no no. Sebastian was testing him but he wasn't going to admit he'd lied.

"No, I…"

"You're not sorry for lying?"

Dammit! That wasn't what he'd meant, Sebastian had tricked him. Another blow opened up the cut on his cheek a little more and blood slowly oozed to the surface before trickling down over the tender, abused flesh. Almost instantly the hand withdrew but instead of another hit, as he'd been expecting, Sebastian's hand wrapped itself around his throat and squeezed.

Charles couldn't breathe, he could feel his airways slowly closing up and he began to panic, squirming and pushing against Sebastian's chest.

It wasn't until Charles was sure he was about to pass out that Sebastian finally released his grip. Charles slid down the wall, gasping desperately for air and holding his throat.

"Why Charles?" Sebastian turned his back and walked towards the bed. "Why do you still defy me? Why do you insist on doing things you know will make me angry? First you lie to me, then you refuse me, you humiliate me in front of my sister and my men. You know I'm going to make you pay for that don't you?"

"Sebastian I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you angry, I just wasn't thinking. I'm sorry"

"I'm sorry too Charles, because now I'm going to have to hurt you. The question is… how?"

Charles closed his eyes and waited obediently for the beating he hoped would come because if it didn't there was only one other thing that would hurt him and Sebastian wouldn't hesitate to use it. When the beating didn't come, a feeling of dread settled in the pit of his stomach. He opened his eyes slowly, looked over to where Sebastian was sitting on the edge of the bed and he knew, he just knew.

"Tomorrow…" Sebastian began.

"No." Charles cried, shaking his head. "No, please. Don't do this. I'm begging. Please Sebastian, you know what this means to me, you can't. You can't."

"I can. And I will."

"NO!" He wailed, more desperate than before. Crawling on his hands and knees across the room he settled himself at Sebastian's feet and looked up at him with tear filled eyes. "I'm sorry, I'm really sorry. I won't do it again, I'll be good I promise. I'll do anything you want, I'll make it up to you but please please please don't do this to me."

Without waiting for a response, Charles stretched up as far as he could, wrapped his arm around Sebastian's neck and pulled him into a passionate, desperation fuelled kiss, moaning exaggeratedly the way he knew Sebastian liked. Sebastian responded the way Charles had hoped he would, kissing back with a brutal ferocity that sent a shiver of revulsion right through the younger man's body. Charles never broke from the kiss, even as his hands fumbled at the fly of Sebastian's pants, even as he reached inside and curled his fingers around the hard, throbbing length that he found there, even as he tugged it free of its cloth prison and started to stroke.

Sebastian moaned, long and low against Charles' lips, and jerked his hips forward, thrusting his cock into Charles' hand, accepting his attentions, allowing him to make his apology.

"Please." Charles begged again, pulling back at last and looking deep into Sebastian's eyes. "Please." He whispered one more time before lowering his head and gently sucking the head of the other man's cock into his mouth.

Sebastian groaned in pleasure, cupping the back of Charles' head and pushing him down until he felt the muscles in Charles' throat contracting around him.

"I'll think about it."

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**A/N:** Sorry folks, you'll have to wait a bit longer to find out why tomorrow/Sunday is so important.

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**Reviews appreciated**


	8. Chapter 7

**A/N:** As previously stated, this and my other stories are also posted over at _yourfanfiction . com_ (no spaces, same author name - **bloodsoakedleather**) so in the event that I end up being deleted from here you know where to go to continue reading.

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Everyone assembled in the dining room for breakfast the next morning, unlike the previous day. It was a little later too. Erik gathered it was Shaw's preference and even though the man himself had not come down yet, everyone knew what was expected of them and waited dutifully for his arrival.

Sean and Alex had long since finished their night shift and gone to bed, Erik hadn't even seen them. Azazel and Janos stood flanking a set of patio doors similar to the ones in the kitchen. Neither man had eaten yet and Erik wasn't sure if it was because they weren't hungry or because protocol meant the were waiting for the boss to eat first. Not having much of an appetite himself this morning he decided he didn't really care much about the reason and found a spot to stand at the end of the room furthest away from the breakfast table.

Emma of course being the lady of the house was under no compunction, either real or perceived, to wait for anyone else to arrive and sat left and centre of the main table, two halves of grapefruit on a plate in front of her liberally sprinkled with what Erik assumed was a sweetener rather than sugar. She ate in silence, ignoring everyone else and stealing no more than a single, semi interested glance towards the door. When Shaw made his appearance just a few minutes later, she lit up.

"Sebastian." She greeted her brother with a bright smile and giggled softly as he place an affection kiss on the top of her head.

"Good morning Emma my dear.""Did you sleep well?"

"Yes, I did. It's always so nice to be back in your own bed after a trip." He glanced towards the door himself. "Come on Charles, stop dawdling." He said, his voiced tinged with irritation. Erik immediately looked towards the door himself, eager to see the younger man, to reassure himself that he was okay and that the concerns that had kept him awake all night had been unnecessary. What he saw made him feel quite ill.

This Charles was very different from the Charles he had met yesterday. Everything about this Charles was the complete opposite of the Charles from the previous day, a direct contradiction, and yet that look, that damned look, that silent plea, meant that Erik was somehow not surprised. Disheartened yes, but not surprised . This Charles was quiet, nervous, subdued. One arm hung limply at his side, the other hugged his chest tightly, it's hand shoved under his armpit and he kept his head down and his eyes on the ground, not looking up once as he shuffled awkwardly into the room. He was dressed quite differently too. Instead of the smart casual slacks and cashmere sweater, he wore faded jeans slung low on his narrow hips and a red v necked t-shirt with a stars and stripes design that clung tightly to his slender upper body. It would have been a good look on any other man of Charles' age and build and was certainly more in keeping with Erik's earlier preconceptions but on Charles it looked somehow wrong and Erik found he much preferred the understated simplicity of the sweater and slacks. Charles hair was slicked back today, not loose and shaggy as it had been the day before, but one wavy lock tumbled forward defiantly, hanging in front of one eye. The hand of Charles's limp arm sprang to life to fiddle with it, effectively shielding his face.

That no one else in the room seemed the least bit surprised by the drastic change in the younger man's demeanour, bothered Erik immensely. Was it really such a common occurrence?

"Charles." Emma greeted her brother's lover grudgingly, the distaste evident in her voice.

"Emma." He answered hoarsely, head still down.

Sebastian pulled out the chair opposite Emma and instructed Charles to sit, which he did slowly and carefully. A clearing of his throat disguised his faint hiss of discomfort well, but not so well that Erik didn't notice. It was what he had feared, what he had expected but hoped _not_ to see. He fought hard to keep the scowl off his face.

Once Charles was seated, Shaw strode over to the table on which the breakfast items had been spread out, picked up a plate and began to fill it with pancakes, bacon and sausage topping it off with an unhealthy amount of maple syrup.

"What are you having Charles?" He called over his shoulder as he poured himself a cup of black coffee.

"Just a cup of tea. My throat is a little sore and I'm not really very hun…"

"Now Charles, we've had this discussion before." Shaw interrupted. "Breakfast is the most important meal of the day and if you don't eat you'll make yourself ill." Just like last night the tone was light but Erik didn't miss the underlying menace and he suspected, neither did Charles.

"I'll have a piece of toast then." He muttered.

Shaw returned to the dining table and deposited his own breakfast plate before going back for Charles' toast. He grabbed two slices, slathering them in butter and peanut butter and placed them in front of Charles.

"There you go." He said as he took his own seat.

Charles sighed.

"I don't like pea…" He began and then changed his mind. "Thank you."

For a moment, the younger man just stared at the food in front of him, then with another sigh and a sagging of his shoulders he reached for the plate. The hand that had been nestled under his arm now gripped the toasts crust, holding it still while the hand that had previously been shielding his face tore off a small corner but in that moment Charles' eating habits were the furthest thing from Erik's mind. He was utterly transfixed, silently horrified and sick with concern because Charles had clearly suffered a serious beating.

Erik could see now a mass of bruises discolouring the pale skin of Charles' forearm, concentrated towards his wrist. One side of his face was similarly bruised, mottled, purple and swollen. A small scab had already formed over a split on the younger man's bottom lip and a cut on his cheek about an inch long was being held together with a row of steri-strips. The skin surrounding the cut was stretched taut over the swelling and above it a black eye, puffy and half closed. Even the other eye was red rimmed and bloodshot and decorated around the inner corner with red speckles which spilled down over the bridge and side of his nose. But what disturbed Erik the most, made him nauseas, was the bruising around Charles' throat and the obvious finger marks that said Shaw had tried to strangle him.

Fuck! Charles was in more danger than Erik had initially thought. Shaw didn't like to get his hands dirty when it came to business, he had men like Azazel and Janos, and now him Erik thought ruefully, to do that for him but that didn't make him any less cruel and sadistic and there wasn't a doubt in Erik's mind that he was capable of committing murder. The very real possibility that the next beating Charles suffered could be his last made Erik see red and it took every ounce of professionalism and restraint he had to keep from launching himself at Shaw and giving the bastard a taste of his own medicine.

Shaw ate his breakfast moderately quickly. Erik hoped he choked on it. Charles on the other hand, had barely gotten through a third of one slice of his toast, just swallowing seemed to be an effort and it was obvious he was struggling but Shaw didn't appear to notice or care. After about ten more minutes Charles had managed to get down almost another third. Hesitantly he looked up at Shaw and mumbled.

"I can't eat anymore."

Shaw put down his coffee and folded his arms across his chest, giving Charles a firm stare.

"One full slice Charles."

"But I… I can't. Sebastian please. I said I was sorry, I showed you. If you'll just let me… I'll eat the rest after, I promise." He was silent for a moment, then he offered a plaintive… "It's been two weeks."

Somehow Erik managed to keep the angry frown from his face as images flashed through his mind of what Charles had gone through the night before and what he'd done to show Shaw that he was sorry. And what the Hell did Charles mean? What had been two weeks? What was it that Charles wanted to do so desperately that he was willing to let Shaw abuse him the way he obviously had?"

And it'll be another two weeks unless you do as you're told. One full slice." Shaw's voice dragged him out of his thoughts and once again Erik's attention was on Charles.

Defeated, the younger man picked up what was left of the toast and took the biggest bite he could manage. He chewed and chewed, and chewed some more, pushing the food around inside his mouth with his tongue until finally he swallowed with a grimace. He did this twice more, each time he chewed for longer and grimaced harder but at last the one slice was gone.

Charles looked hopefully at Shaw who eventually nodded.

"Good boy." He rose from his seat and walked round to Charles, holding out a hand and helping him to his feet. "Come on, let's go."

"Thank you." Charles whispered, a faint half smile tugging at the corners of his mouth but not his eyes. Even so, it was still the happiest Erik had seen him since he got here and that in itself was really quite worrying.

"We'll be in my study." Shaw said addressing no one specifically as he lead Charles towards the door. "No one disturb us for at least an hour."

And with that both he, and Charles were gone.

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**Reviews appreciated**


	9. Chapter 8

**A/N:** Still posting over at _yourfanfiction . com_ (no spaces, same author name - **bloodsoakedleather**) but it's looking like the site may have to close due to lack of donations so I'm looking for some place else where I can also post.

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Erik didn't follow immediately, though he wanted to desperately. The temptation was almost unbearable but he knew he couldn't do so without raising suspicions so he stayed where he was. A quick glance around the room revealed unsurprisingly, no more reaction to this than to Charles appearance this morning so Erik reluctantly swallowed his many concerns and attempted to give off the same air of complete indifference as everyone else.

Slowly, he walked over to the breakfast table where he grabbed himself a couple of slices of bacon and an egg which he ate while deciding what his next move should be. He needed to know what was going on in that study, that much he was certain of, it could be the key to everything, taking down Shaw and saving Charles. Whatever it was, some sort of privilege or reward Erik surmised judging by Charles eagerness, it happened regularly, every two weeks apparently just as long as Charles _behaved himself _and it was obviously important enough to the younger man that he was willing to allow himself to be physically and emotionally abused rather than lose it. Erik couldn't even begin to formulate a theory as to what _it_ might be.

When he was finished his breakfast and he was sure enough time had passed that his departure wouldn't look obvious, he set his plate down atop the stack of other dirty plates and headed towards the patio doors.

"I'm going for a smoke." He mumbled, fishing in his pants pocket for a pack of cigarettes and hoping that no one would decide to join him. He was lucky this time, he wasn't always. As he stepped through the doors he made sure he was seen taking one from the pack and raising it to his lips before turning and making his way along the narrow tiled path that ran the entire perimeter of the building. He retrieved a lighter from his other pocket, lit the cigarette and let his hand drop to his side.

Erik didn't smoke, never had and never wanted to, but he'd discovered early on in his undercover career that smoking gave him an excuse, when needed, to slip away without arousing suspicion. Lighting an actual cigarette and letting it burn down meant he didn't lose track of time. It also meant the smell clung to him when he came back from his _breaks_ and leant credence to his cover.

Keeping his steps light so that his approach wasn't heard he came to a halt just a couple of feet away from another set of patio doors, very slightly ajar, which if he recalled correctly from his tour of the house and grounds, belonged to Shaw's study. He flattened himself against the wall and listened. He could hear only muffled voices so he shuffled a little closer until the voices became clearer. The drapes were closed but there was a tiny gap at the edge which allowed him to peer into the room. Vision was limited but he could see just enough that his mind was able to fill in the blanks.

Shaw stood beside his desk with his back to Erik and a cell phone pressed against his right ear. Shadows moving back and forth across the carpet and the sound of muted footsteps indicated that someone else, Charles, was pacing just out of sight. After a few moments Shaw turned and held out the phone. Charles came into view then, moving to stand in front of Shaw. He stood on his tiptoes and pressed a semi convincing kiss to the other man lips that turned Erik's stomach.

"Thank you Sebastian. Thank you so much." He said softly, taking the phone with shaking hands.

"Yeah yeah. You can show me how grateful you are later." Erik swallowed another wave of nausea and tried not to think about what that probably meant. "Just remember, thirty minutes only." He fiddled with his watch. "And you're already on the clock."

Charles nodded his understanding and held the phone up to his own ear.

"Raven? Oh God Raven, it's so good to hear your voice again. "

* * *

Erik didn't stick around long after that. He doubted he would learn anything more from prolonged eavesdropping and besides, his _cigarette break _was over and he had to get back before someone came looking for him. He dropped the butt on the ground on his way back to the dining room and crushed it beneath his shoe. If anyone found it later it would look like this was where he'd stood, not outside the study. Couldn't be too careful.

The rest of the day was uneventful. With no orders to carry out and no poor souls to intimidate on Shaw's behalf, Azazel and the others made good use of the games room. Shaw had no meetings to attend, no calls to take and no business trips to make so he spent the day relaxing. Charles remained quiet, obediant and sickeningly attentive to his bullying lover, sitting in his lap, nuzzling into his shoulder, kissing his jaw and cheek and running his hands all over the other man's body as if it were an urge he was powerless to resist and it made Erik's blood boil to see Shaw so cold-bloodedly taking advantage of Charles's gratitude. Emma, as expected, was sickly sweet in her brothers presence, her sharp tongued insults and cool contempt for Charles buried beneath the fakest of smiles. In fact, to someone who didn't know better they might actually appear to be a normal, happy familly.

But Erik did know better and the facade of domestic bliss made his skin crawl and his nerves jangle so violently he thought he might snap and if it hadn't been for his desire to keep Charles from having to be alone with Shaw, he might have been glad when night finally fell.

* * *

"How's it going?" Moira asked when Erik called to check in.

"Okay I guess." He told her. "There's no replacement waiting in the wings to put a bullet through my skull yet anyway. At least not as far as I know."

"Glad to hear it. We don't have anyone our end even close to being ready to take your place."

"Your concern for my personal well being is truly touching Moira, thanks." He snorted.

"You're welcome." She paused briefly and Erik waited for the inevitable question. "So, you got anything useful for me?"

"Nada, except maybe a name.""Go on."

"Raven. That's it, that's all I've got."

"It's not much to go on."

Erik pulled a face at his phone. He felt like telling her to come over and find her own damn evidence if she wasn't satisfied with his, but he kept his mouth shut.

"I know." He grumbled.

"So who is this Raven anyway?"

"How the fuck am I supposed to know." He snapped irritabley. "You're the one with access to everyone in the country's damn records." He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed heavily. "Look, all I know is it's someone important to Charles."

"The boyfriend?" Moira queried. Erik winced, the reality of Charles' relationship with Shaw being so very different than the word _boyfriend_ implied. Slave seemed to fit, or better still prisoner.

"If you can really call him that." He mumbled. Moira didn't appear to hear him.

"You think he might roll over on Shaw?"

"With the right motivation, yeah."

"What makes you so sure?"

"He's not happy here." He squeezed his eyes shut, pressed his head further back into his pillow and balled his free hand into a fist as he recalled that damn look yet again. "Shaw treats him like shit. He beats him." He said roughly, trying hard to keep his emotions under control. "And I… I think he does more than just beat him."

"More than b…?" Silence as the penny dropped. "Oh." Suddenly she sounded softer, more human, not like herself. "Fucking Christ, poor kid."

"Yeah."

Cool, professional Moira returned almost as quickly as she'd gone, so quickly that Erik had to wonder if the softer side he thought he'd sensed had actually just been a figment of his imagination.

"So. We give the kid a way out." She said. "We make him a deal, he gives us the information we need and we'll protect him from Shaw, put him in witness protection and give him a whole new life somewhere Shaw will never find him."

"Won't work. He's not looking for protection. He hates Shaw, but he's not scared of him. No. Shaw has some kind of hold over him, something to do with this Raven. That's what's keeping him here, that's why he lets Shaw hurt him, and unless we can find out what it is we don't have a hope in Hell of getting him on our side."

"Terriffic. Complications. Just what I need more of right now." She sighed. "Fine, I'll run the name Raven through the computer and see what we come up with. Whatever the connection is, maybe we'll get lucky and it won't be too deeply hidden. Okay, I'm done here for now. I'll let you know if we find anything. And in the meantime, keep on him, there's a good chance you'll be able to get something out of him that won't be in any of our records."

He shut off his phone without answering her. He knew his job, he didn't need her to tell him. Besides, he wasn't about to leave Charles' fate completely in the hands of someone who'd never even met the guy. Charles was too important to him. To him, not just the case. Fuck!

Carefully Erik dissembled the phone and hid the sim away in it's usual place, then he settled himself back in his bed and tried, just as he had the night before, _not _to think about what Charles was letting Shaw do to him.

* * *

**Reviews appreciated**


	10. Chapter 9

**A/N:** I am now on AO3, same author name - bloodsoakedleather

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For the next two days Charles remained as obedient and attentive as he had been the day of the phone call and Shaw had made sure not to waste any opportunity to benefit from it. Those two days had passed agonisingly slowly for Erik and he'd been more relieved than he could even describe when, on the third morning, he observed just a hint of the old Charles flashing briefly behind the younger man's eyes as they all assembled in the breakfast room.

"Toast again Charles?" Shaw asked in his usual tone.

Charles glanced down at his plate for a split second and then answered with false bravado.

"No. I'll have eggs today. Two. Sunny side up. Plenty of ketchup."

Shaw turned and glared at his lover and Emma, with her back to her brother, gave him a filthy stare.

"Really? Toast is a much healthier alternative."

"I want eggs." Charles responded after a deep breath, straightening his back and drawing back his shoulders in a show of rebelliousness and unwittingly displaying a cluster of smallish purple bruises peeking over the neck of his t-shirt that turned Erik's stomach. Hickeys.

Shaw growled quietly under his breath and shovelled two eggs from the warming ring onto a plate and tossed it down angrily in front of Charles who barely managed to keep it from sliding off the table and into his lap. Breakfast was a silent affair after that. Emma picked delicately at her usual grapefruit, Shaw opted for a bowl of Cheerio's instead of pancakes which he ate quickly and Charles pushed his eggs around his plate but didn't take a single bite. Once Shaw was finished his own meal he stood up and announced.

"Well, as much as I hate to leave you both so early." He smiled at his sister and stared hard at Charles. "I have business that needs attending to today and I'm not sure how long I'll be."

That, Erik though, explained Charles' return to form. He wondered idly which Charles was the real Charles. The timid, lonely, abused boy whose only chance to assert himself came when his abuser wasn't around or the spirited, and defiant young man who fought to stay strong but had been broken down over time by a cruel master. He wasn't sure the second option was really any easier to deal with than the first.

"Don't rush back." Charles said softly but not quietly, then he looked up and offered a cloyingly sweet smile. "Your business is very important Sebastian, it wouldn't do for you to be distracted."

Shaw snorted irritably but said nothing, having no time to do anything but let the matter rest for now though Erik had little doubt that it would be revisited at some later time and that Charles would not come out of it unscathed.

"Azazel, Janos, you're with me." The two men immediately fell into place behind their boss. "Erik, you're on home security today. Charles can be quite the mischief maker when he wants to be so don't let him get into too much trouble. I wouldn't want him to hurt himself or anything." The message was clear, keep him under control or else.

"Yes sir." Erik nodded, wondering how much longer it would be before Shaw trusted him enough to take him along to business meetings but at the same time glad for the chance to get to know Charles a little better and maybe figure out what exactly was keeping him here.

Shaw moved around the table then, followed by Azazel and Janos, and leaned down to kiss Charles on the forehead. Charles didn't respond.

"Goodbye my love. I'll be back as soon as I can."

"I can't wait."

Shaw growled again, gave Charles another kiss and left with his two henchmen in tow. Emma made her excuses and left just moments later leaving Charles and Erik alone.

For several moments neither man spoke. Charles stabbed at his now cold eggs and wrinkled his nose in disgust at the congealed yolk on his plate.

"Looks like you got stuck with babysitting duty again." He said at last.

"Home security." Erik reminded. "I don't think you really need a babysitter."

"Are you sure? You heard Sebastian, I can be quite the mischief maker."

"I heard."

Charles sighed loudly, dropped his fork on his plate with a clatter and pushed the whole mess away.

"I hate eggs." He muttered.

Erik frowned.

"If you hate eggs then why did you ask for them?"

"Because Sebastian prefers that I have something else."

He pushed his chair back from the table and stood up, smoothing out the creases in his jeans then heading towards the door.

"And do you always do things just because Mr Shaw doesn't like them?" Erik called, following Charles into the hall and through to the lounge. The younger man paused briefly with his hand poised just above the handle and looked over his shoulder.

"Only when I'm not afraid of what he'll do to me." He answered. His gaze faltered and he turned away quickly, pushing open the door and striding across the room to the couch in front of the television where he flopped down with another loud sigh.

The now disturbingly familiar taste of bile rose in Erik's throat once again as he wondered just how often Charles was afraid. He chose not to push the matter for now, not wanting Charles to think he was being too nosy. Instead he located a chair where he thought he could comfortably watch Charles without being too obvious.

It was when Charles made a grab for the remote that Erik noticed a small black shape on the inside of his wrist that he hadn't seen before. It had been hidden by the bruises he realised but now that they were beginning to yellow and fade it was quite visible.

"I didn't know you had a tattoo." He said. Charles looked up, a little surprised, and Erik nodded towards his wrist. "I've been thinking about getting one myself but I can't decide what to go for." He offered as his excuse for looking. "Is it okay if I take a closer look?"

Charles shrugged his shoulders.

"Sure. I guess so." He said as Erik moved from his chair to the couch. He dropped the remote control and offered up his wrist for closer inspection.

Resisting the urge to take Charles' hand in his, Erik studied the small inked design. Up close he could see it was the silhouette of a bird. Interesting, he thought.

"It's pretty." He whispered, and before he could stop he found himself reaching out to touch, his fingertips brushing oh so gently over the tender flesh.

A breath caught in Charles' throat.

"It's a raven." He croaked, snatching his hand away as if he'd been burned.

Erik nodded and withdrew his own hand.

"Does it mean anything?" He asked, realising he couldn't make a direct enquiry about the identity of the mysterious Raven without giving himself away and hoping that Charles wouldn't clam up before he could learn anything else.

"It's my sister's name." He murmured with a sad smile.

A sister. Fantastic. That should narrow Moira's search a little. It'd been like looking for a needle in a haystack so far.

"You have a sister?" Erik asked, trying to sound as if he were being just idly curious and not like he was conducting an interrogation. "Where is she? Does she live here too? When do I get to meet her?"

"She doesn't live here. She…" Charles began to rub, unconsciously at his wrist. "I don't know where she is. I haven't seen her in… years."

Erik's frown returned.

"You miss her a lot, don't you?" Slowly, some of the pieces fell into place in his head. A sister he hadn't seen in years but got to speak to occasionally as some kind of reward. The hold that Shaw had over him which was more important to Charles than his own happiness or safety. It was Raven. It made a sick kind of sense that Erik didn't fully understand but there it was.

Charles nodded, still rubbing at his wrist and trying his very best not to look Erik in the eye.

"Is that why you always seem so unhappy?"Charles froze, his shoulders tensed visibly and he looked up, then down again almost instantly.

"I'd rather not talk about it." He mumbled.

It wasn't a denial. Erik had at least a dozen more questions, the answers to which would probably lead to yet more questions but he didn't want to overwhelm Charles and he'd already learned more than he'd expected to today so they could wait until another time. Even if the look in Charles' eyes had told him he wanted to talk, he was just too scared.

"Sure. Okay. I understand." He said and flashed the younger man a grin that looked easy but felt anything but. "So, uh…" He glanced over at the door which lead to the games room. "Do you play pool?"

Charles shook his head.

"No. I've never even picked up a stick."

"It's called a cue." Erik chuckled. "You wanna learn?"

Charles bit his lip nervously as if he wasn't quite sure how to respond.

"Uhm, yeah. I think I'd like that." He said hesitantly. Then a slow smile spread across his face. It didn't quite reach his eyes, in fact it was a long way off but at least it was a start Erik thought.

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**Reviews appreciated**


	11. Chapter 10

**A/N:** In answer to the many questions I've recieved, **YES**, I most definitely **WILL** be finishing this and all my other stories. Unfortunately I find myself with much less time available in which to write than I did when I began these stories so updates are likely to take quite a while. Please be patient, and don't worry, I would never leave a story unfinished.

* * *

Shaw returned the next afternoon.

Erik was dismayed to see over the next week or so, that each morning another injury had been added to Charles' collection. Sometimes obvious, a swollen jaw, a split lip, wrists marked with grazes that Erik could only conclude were from some form of restraint. Other times less so and these were the ones that disturbed Erik the most. One leg favoured slightly more than the other, a faint grimace when he stood or sat, though only when he thought no one could see. Charles wore his bruises unashamedly, made no attempt to disguise them, to hide the evidence of Shaw's abuses from the others, but he would not show them, any of them, how much it hurt. He was too proud for that. Proud and defiant and stronger than he probably even realised himself.

Except for every other Sunday when Charles would become meek and compliant and submit to Shaw's every whim for the chance to talk to a sister he hadn't seen in God knows how long for a mere thirty minutes.

Today was a Monday, the middle Sunday had passed and Erik knew with nauseating certainty that in just a few days, as the second Sunday approached, the fire in Charles' eyes would dim and he would once again become Shaw's willing slave. Worse, there wasn't a goddamn thing he could do about it. Until Moira found something solid on Raven, all Erik could do was watch.

So he watched. He watched Charles force down his eggs at breakfast while Shaw glared at him. He watched Charles wander through the house, purposely avoiding all the places Shaw might be. He watched Charles and Emma's verbal sparring and the sickly sweet turnaround that only she made whenever her brother entered the room. He watched Charles shrug off every one of Shaw's touches and the anger cloud the other man's face when he did. And he watched Charles curl up in the armchair after dinner with a book in his lap, despite Shaw's repeated requests for him to sit beside him on the couch.

"Come here Charles. Emma is out, we have the whole place to ourselves for the evening." Clearly Shaw thought of his security team as nothing more than furniture in this particular instance. "Let's make the most of it hmmm." He spread his legs and patted the insides of his thighs as if expecting Charles to position himself between them.

Charles didn't even look up from his book.

"I'm reading." He said flatly.

"I can see that. Put the book down." His tone would have brokered no argument from most people, but as Erik had come to see, Charles was not like most people.

"I'll put it down when I'm finished."

Erik couldn't help but wonder, if this exchange were to take place in a few more days would Charles be obeying without question and decided that he didn't like his own answer. The idea of having to watch while Charles pleasured Shaw was almost as sickening as the sudden realisation, given the distinct lack of reaction from anyone in the room, that Charles had probably performed in front of an audience before. Whether willingly or by force Erik wasn't sure but both options made him sick.

"Charles, I'm not going to…"Erik was more than relieved when the ringing of a cell phone interrupted before Shaw could finish that sentence.

The older man swore under his breath and yanked his phone from his pocket.

"This had better be fucking important." He snapped angrily. There was a short pause while the person on the other end spoke. Erik strained to hear what was being said but he was too far away to make out even the odd word. "Well, come on, spit it out. I haven't got all day. …..What?" Shaw stood up then and started pacing up and down. "Tell me this is just a spectacularly unfunny joke. …..FUCK!" At this everyone looked up, even Charles, who was beginning to look a little worried now. "FUCKFUCKFUCK! …..Alright, let's just keep this between you and me for now okay? …..FUCK! …..Okay, just limit what damage you can and I'll talk to my guys and get a clean up crew out there. …..Let me know if anything else happens."

He stopped pacing, ended the call and immediately made another.

"Have Darwin bring the car around. NOW!" He barked. He stared down at the phone in his hand for several long seconds after that. The atmosphere in the room was thick with tension now. Charles was on his feet and halfway across the carpet.

"Sebastian." He called softly.

Shaw didn't seem to hear him. He growled deep and loud and threw the phone against the wall, shattering it into pieces.

"FUCK!"

Charles was in front of his now, reaching for his hand and calling his name softly as if trying to appease the man.

"Sebastian. Sebastian, what's wrong?"

Shaw pushed the younger man squarely in the chest and shoved him, not hard enough to fall but it made him stumble sideways. He snapped his fingers.

"Azazel, Janos." He offered no instructions but they fell into place obediently behind him. Shaw began to walk, long purposeful strides down the corridor and across the hall. Charles chased after him, in what Erik could only describe as a panic, placing himself between Shaw and the front door.

"Sebastian please." He begged, reaching out to touch the other man's arm. "Talk to me."

"GET OUT OF MY WAY!" Without slowing his steps, he balled one hand into a fist and swung for Charles, hitting him across the jaw with the back of his knuckles, the cracking sound that resulted, sickeningly loud in the largely empty hallway. Charles crumpled to the floor, clutching his Jaw and sucking in deep, shaky breaths while Shaw continued towards the door.

Within seconds both Shaw and the two bodyguards were gone, the heavy door slamming shut behind them, leaving Erik and Charles alone, and somewhat stunned.

For a moment the two men just stared at the door, then at last Erik asked…

"What the Hell was that all about?"

"I don't know." Charles mumbled, still sprawled on the ground. Erik walked towards him and held out a hand to help him up. Charles took the offered hand and struggled to his feet. "But whatever it is it's bad. Really bad." Erik could see that all the colour had drained from Charles face and the worried look and air of panic was now more akin to fear than anything else. "I need a drink." He said hoarsely, tearing his hand away from Erik's, and took off back down the corridor before even had time to think about following.

He caught up to the younger man in time to see him gulp down the contents of a glass and pour himself another from a decanter which sat atop a cabinet in the corner of the room. Erik didn't know what was in the decanter but it was probably expensive, and strong, and Charles had poured himself a rather large measure. He frowned, more than a little concerned, and walked over to where Charles was standing.

"I think maybe you ought to slow down with that." He said, cautiously placing one hand over Charles' to stop him raising the glass to his lips.

Charles was still for a moment, staring down at their joined hands blankly, then he yanked himself free and downed the contents of the glass anyway, rather more quickly than could be good for him and slamming it back down on the cabinet.

"And I think maybe you should mind your own damn business." He snapped.

Erik's frown deepened. He had only known Charles for a short time but he knew him well enough he thought, to know that this behaviour was out of character and that worried him. Really worried him.

"Hey! I'm just looking out for you okay. You're not used to drinking and…"

"What makes you think I'm not used to drinking? Maybe I drink all the time and you just haven't noticed because nobody ever notices me." Erik didn't tell him that he noticed everything about him, that whenever he was anywhere near he couldn't take his eyes off him.

"Just call it an educated guess." He said, sighing heavily. "I mean come on, Shaw treats you like a slave, he controls what you wear, what you eat, who you speak to. He doesn't let you have friends. It's not exactly a huge leap to assume he doesn't let you drink. Therefore, you're not used to it and if you don't slow down you're going to be really, REALLY sick."

Charles reached for a bottle that wasn't decanted but Erik stopped him.

"I don't care if I'm sick okay?" He mumbled, choking back a desperate sob. "I don't care. It can't be any worse than…" His eyes flickered towards the door, then down at the floor. "It can't be any worse than… than… When he gets back he'll be… He'll… Christ!"

Erik just stared, his heart breaking as he saw Charles trying to hold it together and failing miserably.

"What's going on here Charles?" He asked finally, his voice soft and full of concern.

"You really want to know?"

"Yes. I Really want to know."

Charles took a deep breath and closed his eyes, one hand fiddling with the hem of his t-shirt.

"This. This is what's going on." He said quietly, pulling the shirt up to his chin and revealing a chest and stomach covered in more scars than Erik could ever have imagined. Some were new, some were years old, some were smooth, some were jagged. Some even looked as if they'd been treated surgically. There were scratches and cuts and burns and lash marks and what looked frighteningly like puncture wounds. Charles turned around so that Erik could see the back was as bad as, maybe worse, than the front. "This is what he does to me every night Erik." His voice was growing louder, pitchier as he became more and more agitated. "Every night."

"Jesus! Fuck!" He rasped, utterly horrified and not making even the slightest attempt to hide it. He reached, unconsciously for the younger man, fingertips brushing lightly over the surface of a large round patch of rough, discoloured skin between his shoulder blades.

"Hairdryer." Charles mumbled. "He didn't like the way I styled my hair one time so he held me down and held it against my skin until it blistered." Bile rose in Erik's throat at that. Charles turned back. Erik's fingertips traced an uneven path across his skin and found a deep, ragged scar just below his ribs.

"And this one?" He asked, half affraid of the answer.

"Belt buckle." Charles answered. "Got me three times in a row in the same exact spot. The third one cracked a rib too."

Erik withdrew his hand and tried, unsuccessfully, not to think about how many other cracked or broken bones Charles might have suffered at Shaw's hands.

"Why?"

Charles shrugged and lowered his t-shirt, hiding his scars once again.

"No reason. There usually isn't. Sometimes he's mad at me but most of the time… Most of the time he does it just for fun because he likes to see me in pain, because he likes to see me cry, because he likes to hear me begging him to stop." He flopped down into the couch then with a grimace, and pressed the heels of his thumbs against his eyes. Erik sat beside him and waited, unsure what to do or say. Eventually Charles dropped his hands to his lap and looked right at Erik, eyes full of fear. It was the first time Erik had seen the other man look genuinely scared for himself and he didn't like the way it made him feel. "You saw how he was when he left here. He rarely gets that angry, he's usually very good at controlling it in front of other people. Whatever happened to make him lose it like that had to be bad and his mood won't be any better when he gets back. He'll probably be worse because he'll realise he let people see him lose control and it'll be me he takes it out on. Christ! You've seen what he does to me when he's not angry, what do you think he's going to do when he is?"

"Then leave him." Erik blurted, all thoughts of Moira and the job temporarily fleeing his mind. All he could think of was Charles, of the scars he'd seen and the ones he could only imagine, and how he couldn't bear to see the young man suffer even one second more of abuse from that sick, twisted fuck, Shaw. "Pack your things now while he's gone and get the Hell away from here before he gets back."

"I can't." The younger man whispered brokenly, turning his gaze away from Erik's.

"Why not?"

"You wouldn't understand."

"You're right, I don't understand, so explain it to me Charles. Help me understand why you would stay here, with a man who beats you and humiliates you and rapes you …" The words flew out of his mouth before he realised he had even thought them and he instantly wished he could take them back when he saw the mortified look on Charles' face but it was too late. "And don't even try to pretend he doesn't because I've seen how hard it is for you to walk some mornings and I've seen the way you wince when you sit down. You might think you're hiding it well but you're not. The others might not see but I do, I see it and…"

"Stop it! Stopitstopitstopit!" Charles pleaded, tears now streaming down his face. He made no attempt to deny Erik's accusation, just begged him again. "Please stop."

"I'm sorry." He said, realising that he had gone to far. "I'm so, so sorry Charles, I just… I hate to see you like this and I want to understand why you let him do all those things to you because…"

"He has Raven." Charles' voice was so small, so breathy, that at first Erik couldn't be sure what he'd said.

"What?"

"He has Raven." A little louder.

"Your sister?"

Charles nodded and looked up at Erik, his whole face a picture of hopelessness and despair.

"She's being kept somewhere, with one of Sebastian's business associates, I don't know where. I just know he's promised that if I ever leave him he'll… He'll have her killed."

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**Reviews appreciated**


	12. Chapter 11

Erik's mind reeled from the revelation. It seemed so obvious now, how could he have been so stupid, how could he have been so blind? The answer to those questions was Charles. His feelings, and he couldn't deny anymore that he was falling for this boy, had clouded his judgement and confused his motives. He'd let himself get so lost in Charles that the job had become almost secondary. He hated himself for that, hated that he'd lost his focus, hated that he'd put the mission at risk and that Charles might have to suffer even longer because of it. Because of him.

"Do you understand now, why I stay?" The younger man asked quietly. Erik didn't think he'd ever heard a sound so wretched, so broken, so utterly devoid of anything but unhappiness and it stung. It really stung.

"Yeah." He whispered, shuffling closer to Charles on the couch and reaching out to thumb away the teardrops collecting under his chin. "I understand."

At that moment, all the tension in Charles' body seemed to bleed away, every bone seemed to just dissolve and he collapsed, sobbing against Erik's chest. Instinctively, Erik wrapped his arms around the smaller man's trembling body and held him tight

"She's all I have." He murmured into Erik's shoulder, half his words getting lost in his suit Jacket. "I can't lose her Erik, but I don't know if I can take much more."

And that pierced a hole right through Erik's chest, one that just barely stopped short of his heart.

"I'm so sorry Charles." He said, tightening his arms around the other man and pressing a gentle kiss into his hair. "I wish there was something I could do, I wish I could make this all go away for you."

Charles pulled back a little and looked up, head tilted slightly to one side, a curious look on his face as he searched Erik's. He wiped his eyes.

"The others don't care what he does to me." He said. "They barely even notice me unless I'm causing trouble." Erik let the man speak, not sure where this was going. "You're different."

"I'll take that as a compliment." He let out a shaky, half hearted laugh.

"I mean it. You're not like anyone I've ever met before. You…"

"I care."

"Yes."

For several long seconds the two men remained perfectly still, perfectly quiet except for the sound of their breathing, then Charles' eyes slipped shut and he stretched himself up, head tilting a little further to the side as he offered his lips for Erik to kiss.

Oh God. Erik wanted so badly to take what Charles was offering, to claim those plump red lips with his own and kiss him until they were both breathless. But something held him back. A voice of reason in the back of his head telling him that no matter how desperately he wanted it, kissing Charles would be a big mistake.

"Sorry." The younger man mumbled when no kiss was forthcoming. He wrenched himself from Erik's arms and turned away. "I shouldn't have done that." He said, cheeks flaming with a mix of frustration and humilliation. "Just because you're nice to me doesn't mean you… I'm sorry."

Erik sensed he was about to flee and he panicked. He knew that kissing Charles would be a big mistake, but he also knew that letting him go now while he was in this state would be a bigger one. He made a desperate grab for the other man's arm, not hard enough that Charles couldn't free himself if he wanted to but enough to temporarily prevent any escape attempt.

"Charles wait, I… It's not that I don't want… I do." He groaned. "I want to kiss you so badly right now but…" But what? Try as he might he couldn't come up with a single valid reason beyond 'it's not a good idea' that wouldn't give him away but in the end it didn't matter. When Charles looked up at him with those beautiful, sad, too blue eyes what remained of Erik's self control crumbled. "Fuck it." He mumbled hoarsely as he surged forward, using his grip on the other man's arm to drag him close at the same time and recklessly crushing his mouth to Charles'.

The smaller man let out a startled gasp but in an instant he was kissing back with a hunger that made Erik's head spin, his heart beat faster and his stomach twist itself into knots. Charles hands were against his chest, pushing him back against the couch, climbing into his lap and straddling his thighs. One hand came to rest firmly at the base of Charles' spine, the other came up to tangle in the wavy brown hair, together acting to anchor Charles in position so that Erik could deepen the kiss.

This was wrong for so many reasons. If Erik still had a single thread of rational thought left he could have listed all of them but right now nothing else existed in his world but Charles. Charles' skin hot beneath his fingertips, Charles' lips moving franticaly against his, Charles' hands working feverishly to get his shirt undone, Charles' hips rocking against him, not quite close enough to give him the friction he needed. It was only when Charles broke the kiss to whisper - "I want you" - that those reasons came rushing back to him.

"I want you." Charles whispered again, but instead of the thrill those words should have caused, Erik was left feeling like he'd been punched in the gut because really, how could he? How could Charles ever want him, or any man ever again, after all the things that Shaw had put him through? How could he even stand the thought of another man's hands on his body? He squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head. Charles didn't, couldn't want him.

What Charles wanted was a friend. Someone who would wipe away his tears when he was too exausted to keep them inside anymore, someone who would hold him tight when it all got too much and he felt like he would fall apart and he was offering his body as payment because Shaw had made him feel like that was all he was worth. Erik wouldn't use him that way, he wouldn't subject Charles to more abuse and there was no doubt in his mind that that's what it would be.

"Stop." He rasped. Pushing the other man back was more difficult than he'd anticipated but it was the right thing to do. He knew it was.

"What's wrong?"

"I…" He swallowed dryly, breathing hard, fighting the urge to pull Charles to him once more. "I can't do this."

Charles frowned.

"I thought you wanted me." His voice was barely a whisper, his face a mask of confusion.

"I do. Fuck. I do want you but…"

"Then what's the problem?" Charles leant in and tried to resume the kiss but Erik shoved him away, a little harder than he intended, scrambling out from beneath him and stumbling towards the middle of the floor.

"The problem is, you don't really want me."

"You don't know that." Charles responded, lifting his chin and throwing his shoulders back. "You don't know me, you don't know what I want!"

Erik could hear the hurt and the fear in the other man's voice and it took every ounce of willpower he had not to look up because he knew one glimpse into those eyes and he lose himself all over again.

"I know enough," He mumbled, turning his back. "Shaw…" He began, wanting to explain but Charles cut him off.

"Oh, now I get it." Suddenly Charles didn't sound hurt or afraid anymore, he sounded angry. "You're afraid of him."

That wasn't what he'd meant at all, Charles had misunderstood but if that was what it took to keep him at arms length, Erik would go along with it. Taking Shaw down had to be his priority, people were depending on him. Charles, even though he didn't know it, was depending on him and if the only way to help him was to hurt him, well then that's what Erik would do. What choice did he have?

"If he finds out, he'll kill us both." He said, loathing himself.

Still he didn't dare to turn round, didn't dare meet Charles' gaze for fear of what he's see there.

"I thought you were different Erik, but you're not." He sounded disappointed and in away that was worse being hated. "You're not any better than they are. You're worse. They're just assholes, but you… You're a fucking coward!"

Erik turned then.

"Charles…" He whispered.

"Don't. Just don't okay? I don't want to hear anything you have to say, I…" He caught his bottom lip between his teeth and stifled a sob before running out of the room.

Erik chased him, out into the hall, up the stairs, along the corridors, stumbling once or twice in his haste and letting Charles get too far ahead. He caught up to him at his bedroom door but not quick enough to stop Charles from slamming it in his face. He cursed himself beneath his breath.

"Charles." He called through the door. No response. He rattled the handle but it was locked from the inside. He called again. "Charles, please open the door, I need to talk to you."

"GO AWAY!"

"Not until you open the door. Please." He pressed his forehead against the door and placed his palms flat against it either side. There was a loud thud that reverberated through the door followed by the sound of breaking glass as Charles threw something.

"FUCK OFF!"

"I didn't mean it. I'm sorry. Let me explain."

"I SAID FUCK OFF!" There was another thud, deeper, more solid this time. "I HATE YOU, DO YOU HEAR ME? I HATE YOU!" More smashing glass, more banging and crashing and muffled grunts and curses. Charles was trashing the room, that was obvious.

"Charles listen to me, please." He tried one more time, knowing it was pointless but having no idea what else he could do. One last thud, one last crash, then silence. Had Charles finally worn himself out or was there simply nothing left to throw?

The silence was almost deafening. It seemed to stretch on for an eternity until it was shattered by the sound of someone crying on the other side of the door. The deep, shuddering, gut-wrenching howls of pain were excruciating to hear and knowing that he was the cause broke Erik.

He turned his back to the door, leaning all his weight against it and slid to the floor with a noise that couldn't be called anything but a sob. Hugging his knees to his chest, he tilted his head to one side so his ear was resting against the door and just listened until the crying stopped, stubbornly ignoring the tears that now stung his own eyes.

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